


when all is said and done

by desastrista



Category: The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Case Fic, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-11 15:21:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12938070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desastrista/pseuds/desastrista
Summary: Jessica, Luke, and Danny all deal in their own ways with the aftershock of what happens after Midland Financial and Matt’s sacrifice. But the past does not often stay buried, and when the companies that worked with the Hand start to make move of their own, the Defenders will reunite to finish what they started.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alchemise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alchemise/gifts).



> This was written for alchemise, who had some truly great Yuletide prompts! I tried to pick and choose from my favorites -- post-canon / dealing with life without Matt, Matt and Jessica snark, Luke and Danny together, the Defenders solving all their problems with punching (although that's just canon) -- and I hope I did the prompts justice.

Jessica had gotten the photos she needed from the bar an hour earlier, but their happy hour went until 9 PM and Jessica had figured she could still get in a few more cheap beers until that time came. It was a rainy Wednesday night, the bartender wasn’t talkative, and the other patrons kept to themselves. In Jessica’s estimation, this made it the best bar in the city right now. 

She intended to make the most of it. The job that she had been hired to do tonight was simple: provide proof for a dubious wife that her husband was not spending these “late nights” at the office but had instead bought drinks for a giggly brunette with a low-cut top. It wasn’t a world-saving gig, but it didn’t have any killer ninjas either. 

Jessica had learned something about saving the world since taking down the Hand: it was all a con. Save the world once and it would just need to be saved again. She, Luke, Matt and Danny may have saved all of New York from annihilation, but the knocking on Alias Investigation’s doors kept coming. They were all sob stories. Extortion. Robbery. Abuse of power. And they were all looking to Jessica to help make things right. 

These days, Malcolm mostly dealt with the clients. He took their name and wrote down their grievances; Jessica actually picked up a couple of them. She preferred small cases. Easy ones. Spend a night in the bar and as an added bonus, drink to forget your problems. No risk of having to let a building collapse over you so that you could save a few million lives. 

She disliked where that train of thought was headed, and had picked up her beer to try to stop it before it could actually go anywhere, when her phone went off. She glared it and the name displayed. Malcolm was calling. 

She picked up and said immediately, “What have I told you about calling me when I’m working a case?” 

A sigh greeted her from the other line. “Not to worry about it, because if you were really busy you wouldn’t pick up. Jessica,” Malcolm’s voice turned serious. “There was a call for you today.” 

“I’d hope so,” she said, her lips forcing themselves upwards in a pointed smile, even though there was no one around to see her mask. “These drinks don’t pay for themselves.” 

“It was the Raymond family. You know, the architect? From the --” 

“I know who the Raymonds are,” Jessica cut in. “What did they want? Has anything happened?” 

“They called to say they had some people over at the house tonight. Asked about John. They claimed to be some kind of, uh, debt collection. DPMR Legal Group. Asking about some credit cards that they claimed our Mr. Raymond had on the side that have outstanding balances. They were apparently pretty insistent and asked a lot of questions about who he worked for. Michelle doesn’t believe a word of it. She said she called as soon as they left. Wants to know if you can help. You know, she says she doesn’t have much money but she’ll pay what she can, says the family is in your debt --”

“Yeah, I’ll take the case,” Jessica said quickly. She did not want Malcolm to continue telling the story. She didn’t doubt there was more, more that Michelle had told him. And no doubt she’d said it tearfully, with a lot of emotion in her voice -- thank god Malcolm was answering the phone these days. Jessica had always hated that aspect of the work, and it had only grown more grating recently. Dealing with those kinds of calls was what she paid Malcolm for. (Had she paid Malcolm? Jessica made a mental note to verify that last check had cleared.) 

“That name you said, uh” she continued, “This DPMR Legal Group. Any record of them online?” 

“One website. Registered two weeks ago.” 

Jessica made a note of distinct non-surprise. “Good. Whoever it is, they started covering their tracks pretty recently. Any contact information on that website?” 

“They’ve got an address in the Flatiron District, right on the edge of Hell’s Kitchen.”

Jessica felt her throat constrict, and she forced herself to say, “Text me the address” before hanging up quickly. Hell’s Kitchen. She hadn’t been back there since she’d thought it was a good idea to team up with some other, overpowered freaks. Manhattan was a big island; Jessica had almost managed to convince herself that it was purely by chance she had stayed away. 

But she knew the truth of it. She didn’t want to go back. She wanted to stay as far the hell away from what had happened there as possible. 

Jessica thought about the look on Lexi’s face when she had told her the truth about her dad. 

Saving the world sucked. It kept having to be saved. But what had happened to the Raymonds wouldn’t end with a bombed out building or talks of buried dragon bones. And Jessica knew she couldn’t turn her back on them so easily. 

She gave a last chug to finish off her beer. Like it or not (and she did not like it), there was work that had to be done. 

 

*****

 

Luke hated quiet. In prison, quiet meant someone was probably setting a trap for you. In Harlem, quiet meant trouble was brewing.

Life without Claire had gotten unfortunately quiet. 

She’d moved out of the city a few weeks ago. Wanted a regular job again, to be a nurse “without having to worry about which crazed supervillain is going to try to blow up the hospital tonight.” And it had been tough to find a job in any of the boroughs after what had happened at Metro-General. 

The two of them had talked about doing long distance, but there was only so much warmth calling and texting could provide. Gradually the time between calls got longer and the texts slowed to a trickle, and Luke knew it was time to start thinking about what his life was going to look like without the solid, reassuring presence of Claire. 

One of the last texts she had sent had been a reference. “My mama told me that some boys in her neighborhood have gone missing. It’s bad. Her friend’s grandson stopped coming home a few weeks ago, and they just fished him out of the Hudson recently. Do you think it could be the same thing that happened with the Hand?” 

“I'll look into it,” he had promised, although privately he had his doubts. Harlem had had problems enough of its own even before an ancient cult had started preying on its young. But for old time’s sake, he met up with Claire’s mother at a corner cafe the next day. (He could not bring himself to call it ‘getting coffee’ with her.) 

They ordered their drinks together and went to sit down in one of the more private tables available. Soledad’s smile was tinged with sadness when she looked at Luke, and he felt a pang as he wondered what conversations she had been sharing with her daughter recently about him. 

“Claire told me that you’ve heard about some boys who have disappeared,” he started. It wasn’t how he meant to start the conversation; he had meant to ask her about how she was doing, make small talk. But somehow that small, sad smile had upended all his plans. Having unbreakable skin didn’t make it easier to handle a breakup. 

Claire’s mom contemplated the question for a moment as she took a long sip from her mug. “Yes, I had mentioned to her that Dona Isabella had called me with the bad news about her grandson. Tito. The funeral is tomorrow. You know, that boy was always getting himself into trouble, but I don’t think -- I don’t think anyone could have foreseen this.” 

“It must be a terrible loss. Does the family have any idea what happened?” 

Soledad shook her head. “They’ve asked around. Talked to his friends, but no one seems to know anything. They’re worried, who could have done this to their boy? But there aren’t any answers. No one has any idea.” 

No wonder Claire had told him about this story. The same MO, with only a few of the details changed. Luke leaned forward in his chair, and said in a hushed tone, “Has he started a new job? Something big, something he wouldn’t say much about?” 

To his surprise, Claire’s mom let out a small, choked laugh. “Oh, if you had only known Tito!” She paused and bit at her lip. Luke knew that expression. It was the sudden realization that Tito was a past tense -- Luke would never get the chance to meet him. No one would. “He was -- well, he was always talking about his new jobs. Always he would tell his mother that he was going to move the family somewhere nice. Somewhere outside the city. If there was a new job -- well I’m sure Dona Isabella would know.” 

He’d barely had a chance to touch his coffee, but Luke made to stand up. “I should go talk to them. Or maybe I should attend the funeral. Pay my respects.” 

“A stranger, asking about work history and sudden disappearances? When the family is still dealing with what has happened?” Claire’s mom clucked her tongue at him. “No one will talk to you. You will only make things work for Dona Isabella and her family. I will ask around and let you know. The family knows me.” 

Luke frowned. “If it’s true that the people who did this before are back, there is a real danger here. You have to be careful.” 

Soledad looked unphased. “From what Clarie tells me, I should be reminding you of that. A few abuelas mourning and gossipping, no one will notice. But trouble has a way of finding you, Luke.” 

“It always has,” he sighed. “You’re probably right. These families have suffered enough. I don’t want to make them any more nervous by snooping around and asking questions.” He grabbed his coffee and made to leave. “Thank you for your help. Let me know if you find anything.” 

Soledad gave him a long look. “The hero of Harlem, at it again.” She moved her lips into a smile that did not quite meet her eyes. 

 

*****

 

The text from Soledad came the next day. _Allan Security,_ the message read. _Apparently, they told him there was a lot of opportunities for overtime._

_Thank you,_ he wrote back. _I’ll see what I can find out about them._

_It was nice seeing you for coffee, Luke. You’re a good man. I think Claire was right about you._

Luke did not ask what exactly Claire had been right about, and she did not offer any explanation.


	2. Chapter 2

The DPMR Legal Group’s offices were on the 15th floor of a drab office building. It lacked the style of a supervillain lair in Jessica’s opinion, but maybe the Hand had blown their entire design budget on Midland Circle. Either way, Jessica needed a way to get a closer look inside, which is why she had a cover story prepared. 

She walked up to the receptionist with her biggest, fakest smile and said, more enthusiastically than she had ever genuinely felt, “Hiii!” 

The receptionist gave what was probably supposed to be a polite smile back. There was a knowing quirk in her mouth, though. Good, Jessica thought. No one got underestimated quite as fast as a Valley Girl. 

“I own a building in Flatiron, and these tenants totally trashed the place and then just up and disappeared. Can you believe it! Just like, seriously?” 

The receptionist was no longer looking at Jessica, but had started typing on her computer. “Is the amount you are trying to collect greater than $10,000?” she asked robotically. 

“Oh, uh, yeah.” 

“Please fill out this form soon,” she slid the clipboard with the sheet in question over the desk, “and one our attorneys will be with you soon.” 

Jessica sat on the couch with the form for a minute and wrote down some of her best, Grade A bullshit. Then the receptionist led her into the offices and into a very bland conference room. 

That was where Jessica Jones saw a ghost. 

Matt Murdock was sitting at the table, Braille reader in front of him, looking in the general direction of the door. He looked meticulously non-descript as always, with a mid-priced suit and tie. He could have been any of the thousand of attorneys in unglamorous industries that helped the city run. Except Jessica knew that face. There was no mistaking Matt. 

She hadn’t thought she would ever see that face again. 

Or, if she did, it would be well -- more squished.

“Mrs. Klein,” the receptionist said, and in her surprise Jessica almost forgot that was the name she had written on the clipboard, “This is Mr. Matthew Murdock. He will talk to you about some of the options you’ll have with us when it comes to those unruly tenants.” 

Jessica opened her mouth and found herself, for once, temporarily speechless. Finally, she managed to remember the tone she had put on earlier and say, “Hello, Matt. Can I call you that?” 

It was the lucky that by then the receptionist had already walked out the room and shut the door because Jessica could not quite hide the edge of her voice behind the forced perkiness. 

The faintest flicker of recognition passed over Matt’s face. He folded his hands over his cane and smiled placidly. “Of course, Mrs. Klein. Nice to meet you. Please, sit.” 

For one brief, glorious second Jessica entertained the fantasy of picking Matt up and throwing him across the room. It would totally blow her cover. But it would be worth it. 

She forced herself to take a seat instead. She opened her mouth to start to talk but Matt cut in. “I’m excited to work with you, and the entirety of the law firm is too.” He made a small motion with his head towards the far corner of the room. 

Jessica let her gaze wander up. The ceiling had panels of dark glass in a few spots. She had noticed when she walked in, but hadn’t given them much thought. They looked the perfect spot to hide security cameras. 

She turned her attention back to Matt. He was still wearing that annoyingly polite smile on his face. For a second Jessica wondered how Matt had possibly known about those cameras. He probably used echolocation or some shit like that. 

“I’m excited to work with you too,” she said, with a smile that bared her teeth. “I’m sure your work is -- well, absolutely crushing. How long have you been working for this firm, by any chance?” 

“Oh, just over a week now. I applied for some quick contract work, but it has really been an enjoyable work experience so far. There’s a lot more interesting cases than you might expect when it comes to debt collection.” Matt had leaned back in his chair; he was grinning broadly. Jessica felt her facade slipping. She could not help but glower back. That just seemed to make Matt’s smile widen. “How about we discuss your case then?” 

 

***** 

 

Allan Security turned out to be located in a big office building not too far from the wharfs of Hell’s Kitchen, and Luke spent the day staking out the place. He noticed there was a small coffeeshop with a window across from the building, and so he bought himself a drink and grabbed a seat with a view. The street looked, for the most part, like any other in New York. There were a lot of people in suits walking quickly in, and a smaller number of people in suits walking quickly out. This building also had an underground parking lot, and Luke watched car after car enter. A lot of the cars that left in the morning were branded company vans. The first one that Luke saw had an electrician’s calling card painted on. Then there was another advertising a catering company. It was almost 11 before he saw the first completely unbranded white van pull out of the street and make a sharp left turn.

Luke kept a close eye on the garage after that, and noticed two more of those same white vans leaving and entering in the next half hour. The last one got delayed entering the parking lot, and Luke had a chance to write down the license plate. While he waited for more cars to arrive or depart, he went online to check the plate number. 

The DMV told him it didn’t exist. 

Another half hour and another van came. This time he was able to get a photo as it drove out the garage. He checked the plates again, and same story. Fake plates. 

At that point, Luke needed to stretch his legs (and some of the baristas had started to ask some pointed comments about whether or not he’d like another coffee) so he walked around the neighborhood. He wanted to stay around the building but had to take pains to avoid looking like he was loitering: he knew there were a few folks out there itching to call the cops on a big black man who didn’t look like he had anywhere to be. So he walked around for a few hours, until it started looking like the work day was beginning to wind down, and then he returned to that same coffee shop. Another coffee and a sandwich and then he was back at the window, watching the office crowd leave. There was a glut of cars leaving the garage; Luke kept watching and eventually the stream slowed down to a trickle. By the time the baristas had started to sweep up, no one was coming out of that garage anymore. 

That was when Luke left -- making sure to leave a nice tip for the baristas -- and made his way to the parking garage. It was almost entirely empty. Luke started walking down towards the lower level. There was one car left underneath a light. Two vans were parked in the corner. Luke looked left and right. There was not a soul in sight in this parking garage. 

He kept walking further down the parking garage until he finally found what he’d been looking for: a row of unmarked white vans, all parked next to each other. The lights in the garage -- which had already been pretty dim -- appeared to have burnt out over about half the vans, leaving them half-shrouded in darkness. 

Luke pulled out his phone to try to get a better look. The extra light didn’t help that much, but it was enough for Luke to give a cursory look around and decide no one else was probably in this garage. That was when he decided to sneak a peek into the first of the trucks to see what secrets they might have inside. 

He’d only gone a few steps when there was a snap and then a horrible thud. Luke felt something scratch faintly at his leg. He looked down to see that his jeans had ripped but his leg was otherwise fine. A bear trap had tried and failed to close around it. The teeth of the trap had warped, no match for his bulletproof skin. 

Curious and vaguely annoyed -- he had really liked those jeans -- Luke bent down to take a closer look at the trap. It had been painted with some kind of matte black, so that it did not reflect the light. That was why he hadn’t seen it initially. Now that he knew what to look for, though, he took another look around the vans. A few of them littered the floor of the garage. 

“Sweet Christmas,” he muttered to himself. 

That was when all the lights of the garage suddenly turned on. 

“Didn’t expect to see you again so soon,” he heard someone say. Luke looked up. The source of the voice didn’t sound too far away, but a van or two blocked them from view. It was a man’s voice. Whoever he was, he sounded winded. Must have come running. Luke leaned down to tear the remains of the bear trap in half; he stood back up, braced for a fight. “I think you will find,” the voice continued, getting louder as the person approached slowly, “that we put a little extra security in place since your last visit.” 

Luke frowned. Whoever this guy was, he must have gotten Luke confused with someone else; Luke had never been here before. 

What kind of visitor would it be that a security firm felt the need to leave bear traps out in the open for? 

Another second, and the man’s footsteps were close enough for Luke to hear. “You know,” the man continued, “We get an alert anytime one of those traps is triggered. We were waiting. Really wanted to get a few punches in. For a few people on the team who aren’t with us anymore. For old time’s sake.” 

Luke could make out the outlines of feet walking around the back of a nearby van. Another second and the man would walk around the van and see him. Luke wasn’t in the mood to wait that long. He stood up and walked around the van. There was the man, walking with his gun drawn, and when he saw Luke his face morphed in surprise. 

“Hey, you’re not him --” 

He didn’t get a chance to complete that thought before Luke had grabbed the gun. Too late, the man tried to fire, but Luke had already got his palm in front of the barrel and the recoil knocked him to the ground. 

“How the fuck,” he muttered from the ground, and then turned back to Luke, “Who the fuck are you? You’re not the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.” 

Luke reached down to grab him by his collar and force him up and onto the tips of his toes. “No, I’m not,” he conceded, “but I know him. Can’t say I’m going to put in a good word for you with him.” A thought occurred to Luke. “Are these traps set for him?” 

The man nodded. Luke made a dismissive noise. As if a bear trap could hope to stop Matt. No doubt he could smell their exact location or something crazy like that. But he did a double take when the man continued, “He came here two days ago. Roughed up a few people, trying to get some information.” 

“Two days ago?” Luke echoed. 

The man nodded again. 

Something didn’t add up. Matt had been gone for months now. He’d take a whole building out with him. There was a point it didn’t matter what superpowers he had. No one could have survived that. There was no more Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. 

So who had come looking for answers about a security firm that was killing the boys of Harlem?

“Tell me what you know,” Luke growled as he pulled the man’s collar up further, so his feet had to scramble for purchase.

“He came in, mask and everything,” the man started, talking so quickly Luke almost couldn’t follow. “Started asking questions about something called -- I don’t know, the Palm? No. It was the Hand. Told him we’d never heard of it. He kept asking. Even threatened us with that weird glowing hand of his.” 

Luke’s grip slipped momentarily in shock. Danny. Luke hadn’t heard from him since the whole affair with the Hand. He hadn’t given it much thought, but if Luke had to say, he would have thought Danny would have gone -- lived it up as a CEO. Or meditate. Both. Either. 

He hadn’t thought Danny would try to pick up the mantle that Matt had left behind. 

The man tried to take advantage of Luke’s momentary surprise with a quick jab to the gut. It did not go well for his hand, but it did return Luke’s attention back to the present. 

“He must have left eventually,” Luke said. “So what did you tell him that finally satisfied him?” 

The man answered by spitting on the ground. “I get enough shit as is. Why the hell would I tell you?” 

Luke gave the man’s collar a warning shake. “You really think you’re in enough trouble now? Because that sounds like a challenge to me.” 

Color drained from the man’s face. “Ok. It was the docks,” he finally said. “We’ve been hired to pick up shipments from the docks for a few weeks now. Once every other weekend. Occasionally deal with some trouble. We don’t ask too many questions, we just get paid.” 

A thought occurred to Luke. “Did Tito get paid for this work at the docks?” he asked. “Is that how he ended up in the Hudson?” 

The man’s face went pale. “How do you know about him?” 

“You didn’t answer my question,” Luke said, through gritted teeth. 

“There was a deal -- it went south. Everyone’s skittish these days. Some people get nervous. Tito got caught in the crosshairs. He was a good kid. But these things happen.” 

These things were not going to keep happening, if Luke had any say in the matter. “When is the next shipment?” he asked. 

“Tomorrow. 9 PM. I didn’t tell you that, though.” 

Luke dropped the man back onto the ground. Not on top of the busted trap itself, but not all that far from it either. “Real pleasure doing business with you. Next time, though -- skip the traps. It’s just going to lead to some accidents. And the last thing we want is more accidents.” 

 

***** 

 

It rained so hard the night next at the docks that Luke half wondered if anyone would even bother showing up. He’d let himself in through a section of wire fencing that no one would miss and had taken refuge under a leaky roof that wasn’t doing much to block the rain. He checked his watch again. It was ten minutes to nine, and he hadn’t seen any signs of movement on the docks. 

Not that he knew exactly what to look for. He’d searched all the records he could find for the description of a shipment expected at 9 PM, but of course there was nothing. Whoever this shipment was for didn’t want to leave a paper trail. 

He’d considered texting Danny before tonight, but something had stopped him. If Danny had wanted Luke to know what he was doing, he would have told him. They weren’t friends, not really. Whatever category of human companionship “we saved the city of New York together once” would fall into. Luke grouped Danny in the same nebulous category of almost friendship that Jessica fell into. Or maybe not. Danny had never tried to seduce him for information, after all. 

Luke tried to imagine the heir of Rand Enterprises and the Iron Fist of Kunlun seducing him. He found himself chuckling. Danny would definitely find a way to make it weird. Probably bring up mystic crap and talk about destiny. 

But whatever strange fantasy his mind had started creating was interrupted by the sound of a car making its way down the docks. Luke leaned back against the wall where he had been hiding. He could hear a chorus of muttering coming from the general direction of the car. Then there was the unmistakable sound of guns being cocked. Whoever ran Allan Security, they had come expecting trouble. 

A few more minutes passed and the docks were once again quiet except for the rain. No doubt the men who had arrived were starting to stake out the perimeter of whatever they were doing. They were not going to run into Luke; he was a comfortable distance away. There was still no sign of Danny. 

Then Luke heard what sounded like a soft thud. Then everyone speaking at once. There was something about a shipment, but Luke couldn’t make out more than that. 

There was no missing the flash of light that engulfed the docks. Luke was far away enough from the blast that the power of it barely rustled his clothes, but he still flinched at the sudden brightness. He’d only seen that move a few times, but there was no mistaking it: Danny had arrived. 

A few of the men had started yelling and, from the sound of it, even more had started shooting. Luke started running towards the noise.

By the time he arrived, several of the men were sprawled out on the floor. The rest were shooting at one of the large shipping containers, which Danny had no doubt used as cover. 

Luke didn’t waste any time. A quick punch brought one of the guys down, and that caught the attention of some of the men closer to Luke, who turned their guns away from the container and towards Luke. Luke made short work of them too: a quick hit to keep them down for a few minutes, and breaking apart their guns so when they got back up they wouldn’t start firing again. In the end, there was only one guy, who kept firing up and down Luke’s back: the bullets almost tickled against his spine. 

Then even that stopped, and when Luke turned around he was face to face with the Iron Fist, now the new Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. 

“Luke, how did you know I was here?” 

It had been months since they had seen each other, and Luke had just helped Danny out of a tight situation. But of course this was Danny, and he was going to skip any formality or thanks and get right to the real questions. Luke felt the corners of his mouth quirk. 

“Asked around Allan Security. They apparently still remember the last visit you paid them. Figured I would see what you were up to tonight.” He could not resist adding, “And it seems like a good thing I did.” 

Danny let out a huff and turned away from Luke. He started ruffling through the pockets of a man who was groaning on the ground. 

“Got it,” he said after a second, pocketing something too small for Luke to see. Then he turned back to Luke. “Thank you. For showing up. But everything is handled now.” 

Luke surveyed the docks. A dozen men were lying on the floor, most of them groaning, and a few of them starting to stand up again. He did not need to be here when they got back up. 

“Yeah, this looks handled,” he said. “So, how about we get out of this rain and have a little chat?”


	3. Chapter 3

They talked about Jessica’s pretend case for about half an hour. Matt was diligent in his role, typing notes to himself and peppering her with questions so diligently that sometimes Jessica forgot he knew she was lying when she complained about her erstwhile former tenants. 

“You know,” she said, “there’s three of them. One of them was this wayward rich kid who fell in with some bad people. Another was a big guy who always paid the rent on time and I thought his heart was in the right place but he still ran off with the rest of them. The last one, though. Really just the worst of the lot. You know, I’m not one of those people who like to give everyone a medical diagnosis, but I would have to say this man was absolutely a compulsive liar.” 

“You seem to have picked up some interesting tenants, Ms. Klein,” Matt responded, with only the slightest upward quirk of his mouth. “Are you sure you’re not better off without them?” 

Jessica made a show of looking at her fingernails before remembering it was probably wasted on him. “Didn’t say I wasn’t. But I’m best off with their money.” 

“Well, DPMR Legal Group is here to help you get it back.” A few more questions, and then he said, “Well, that seems like everything. We will be in touch soon to discuss next steps. And trust us, we will do everything in our power to get you your money back. Now, I can show you out -- but first, if you’ll excuse me, I need to use the washroom.”

“Oh, actually, could you show me where those are?” she asked, her voice all sweetness.

Like hell was she going to let Matt out of her sights after everything he’d done. 

Matt escorted her to the far right wing of the office. Just when they were standing outside the bathroom doors, he tilted his head and then whispered, “Ok, no one is in the bathrooms and no one is walking this way. So let me say this -- I’m sure you have questions. I can answer them, just meet me at my apartment. After work. I’ll tell you everything.” 

“Yeah, I do have some fucking questions,” she muttered back, “You’re just, what, expecting me to trust that you’re not going to pull another Houdini act right now?”

Another quirk of his lips. “I’m definitely going back to that apartment, I can’t find anything that nice with my salary again. Particularly not since I lost my firm after the stint we pulled getting out of that police station,” Then Matt’s expression turned serious. “Jessica, I know that you aren’t much for trusting people, but, please, just this once, trust me.” 

“Trust you?” She scoffed. “Just because I’m not sure I have much of a choice right now, unless I want to spend the rest of the day staking out a debt collection firm. Fine. Your apartment, as soon as you get off work.” 

She walked out of the building with her cell phone already in hand and the NYPD’s public relations office’s number already punched in. She had a few questions for them about what had happened to a certain kidnapped lawyer named Matt Murdock. 

Yeah, she’d trust Matt. Maybe one day, when he stopped pulling shit on her.

 

***** 

 

Luke was expecting that they would head back to the dojo where he first met Danny, but instead Danny walked up to a quiet apartment where he let himself up the fire escape and walked up to the fifth floor and through the window. 

“What?” he asked at the confused expression on Luke’s face, “I live here.” He had started to peel off the mask and costume. His clothes were soaked, and his curls clung stubbornly to his scalp. Luke felt a sudden, stupid desire to dry them off. 

Instead, he said, “I thought a rich boy like you would have a high rise in Manhattan.” Luke looked around and took in the scuffs on the walls and floors: this was no luxury suite. 

“Oh, those places with the doormen?” Danny said, as if he had looked into exactly the place Luke was describing. “A little hard to sneak into those at night.” He’d taken off his shirt and stopped talking to give his right arm a look-over. 

“Are you hurt?” Luke asked immediately. 

Danny shook his head. “Nothing a few bandages won’t fix,” he said. Luke could see there were already a few decorating his arm. Luke crossed his own arms. 

“Looked like you could have used a bulletproof man earlier.” 

Danny let out a huff. “I’m fine.” He walked over to a desk pushed against the wall, where there was an industrial-sized roll of bandages. He sat back down and started to wind the tape around his bicep, which Luke could see had been grazed by a stray bullet. “The original Devil of Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t bulletproof either.” 

“And look where that got him,” Luke had to point out. “Why do you want to be the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen anyway? Going around having a title like the Immortal Iron Fist wasn’t enough for you?” 

Danny turned his face up to look at him, and the grin on his face was sly. “You’re one to talk. They’re still calling you the Hero of Harlem?” 

“I’m still Luke. Whatever other people call me, doesn’t matter. I know who I am. Do you?” 

Danny ripped a second bandage for himself with more force than was necessary. “Matt -- he left a mantle behind. He created a myth that was larger than himself. The people in this city know the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Criminals are afraid of him. And if he just disappears --” Matt shook his head. 

Luke sighed. “This myth. Matt always worked alone. Is that why you never tried to contact me, or anyone else? And what about Colleen?” 

“Colleen didn’t want any part of this. She had family business to attend to in Japan, she’s been gone for a few weeks now. But it doesn’t matter. Like you said, Matt always did work alone,” Danny said, his voice sounding more than a touch defensive.

“Matt joined up with us against the Hand,” Luke pressed. “He was only working alone because he didn’t know about you or me or Jessica when he started.” Luke paused and looked up Danny’s arms again. “You could use some backup.” 

“You never seemed all that into teamwork yourself,” Danny muttered. Luke shrugged, and Danny asked, “What made you look into Allan Security?” 

“A kid in Harlem who didn’t know better took a job with them and ended up dead a week later. I don’t want another company preying on Harlem’s sons. But you’re not from Harlem. So my question is: why are you looking into them?” 

Danny’s grin turned wolfish. He reached into one of his pant pockets and fished out a USB stick, which he held out proudly to Luke, who just stared at it in confusion. 

“What’s on this?” he asked. 

“Allan Security recently received a cash infusion. Private investor. This private investor used a shell company, which was managed by a different shell company -- one that I had been keeping a close eye on. Because it was one of the shell companies used by the Hand. Except here’s the thing. All this took place after we destroyed the Hand’s leadership.” 

It took Luke a moment for the full weight of what Danny had said to sink in. “You’re saying that the Hand --” 

“Is back,” Danny filled in before Luke could get the words out. 

“That’s not possible,” Luke shot back. “We saw that building collapse. There were no survivors. There couldn’t possibly be.” 

A pained look crossed Danny’s features for a brief second at Luke’s words. Luke’s frown deepened. Was Danny actually hoping that the Hand was back --? 

It had been Danny who had told them to get out of there. It was Danny who Matt had told that he did not intend to come out of that building alive. If the Hand had somehow miraculously survived, maybe Matt had too. 

Luke sighed. 

This had all started as one last favor for Claire. To assuage a fear that the Hand had come back. After this was done, as far as Luke was concerned, the Hand was over. Sometimes there was nothing to be done with the past but locking it away and losing the key. Luke had left enough locked behind to know. 

“So, let’s say the Hand is back,” he started, more diplomatically than he felt. There was no missing the way Danny’s eyes lit up at those words. There were doors that Danny should lock, but never seemed able to. “What are we going to do then?” 

“This shell company -- I think it’s trying to move some assets around. Taking out some money here, moving capital here. And the more I can figure out what they’re doing, the better chance I have of knowing who they are.” He held up the USB key. “So let’s see what Allan Security was going to drop off at the docks tonight.”


	4. Chapter 4

After she was done calling around, Jessica broke into Matt’s apartment and sprawled out on his couch. For good measure, she also helped herself to a beer. She was almost finished with it by the time the door opened. 

Matt stood in the doorway and frowned when he realized she had snapped the doorknob clean off. 

“I think there might be easier ways to get into my apartment,” he chided. 

She shrugged. “You said to meet back at your apartment and didn’t give me a key. So I improvised. I’m sure a guy who can survive a few tons of steel and brick falling on top of him can survive without a doorknob for a night.” 

Matt walked in and adjusted his tie, as if the topic of his miraculous survival had somehow made him self-conscious. Jessica couldn’t say she felt any sympathy for him. She quirked an eyebrow at him before remembering he probably couldn’t see it. 

Or maybe he could hear her eyebrow lift. At this point, nothing Matt could do would surprise Jessica. 

He walked to the fridge, got himself a beer, and sat down across from her. “I figured you would have some questions,” he said quietly. 

Ok, Jessica was wrong. Matt could still surprise her. Starting the conversation with the World’s Biggest Understatement was a surprise. 

“No, really?” she asked sharply. She threw her hands up in the air. “So you can come back from the dead. Your ex-girlfriend did it too. Should have known. Did she tell you how?” She paused. “Was it like some weird couple’s bonding activity, coming back from the dead?” 

“I don’t know where Elektra is,” Matt’s expression was serious. “I’ve been looking for her, but when I woke up -- she was gone.”

“And let me guess, you have no idea how you came back.” 

He shook his head. 

“So now you’re looking for Elektra, you know, when you aren’t filling your day reading up on the intricacies of the legal boundaries of debt collection?” 

Matt gave a small smile. “I need to pay the bills. I mean, I am recovering from a near death --”

“A little closer than ‘near’, Matt,” she cut in. 

“A very near to death experience,” Matt conceded. “And then there was all that time I had to spend dealing with the ramifications of being kidnapped while in a police station. Had to talk to a lot of people to get all that sorted out.” 

Jessica gave a disbelieving snort. “Yes, I heard. I called around while you were off, I don’t know, filling out paperwork to send people to extort others.” 

The corners of Matt’s mouth set in a frown. “This company, what they’re doing -- it’s tied to the Hand.” He paused as if waiting for her reaction, and then added, “Of course, you already knew that. That’s why you were there.” 

Jessica leaned further back against the couch. She hated to admit it but she had preferred the conversation when it was about Matt. “Yeah,” she finally said, “Your employer came asking about John Raymond.” 

“You wanted to make sure his family was okay,” Matt said. 

Jessica gave a shrug. She did want to help the family; what she did not want to do was talk about it. But a thought occurred to her, “If you didn’t find out about this company through the Raymonds, how did you start working there?” 

“They actually found me,” Matt answered, and he must have sensed Jessica’s disbelief because he added hastily, “They said they were looking for short term help. Busy season, I guess. I start to do a little digging on them. And they start to do a little digging on me too. Ask me what I know about some of the superheroes I got tangled up with. They’re quite curious to know more about Jessica Jones and Luke Cage.” 

Jessica’s back straightened. “What did you tell them?” 

“I should have told them that you have no manners when it comes to inviting yourself into other people’s apartments.” He shook his head slightly. “I didn’t say much, nothing they couldn’t find out from reading the newspaper. But it’s made me curious about them. I take the job, figuring if I’m wrong about them at least it’ll be a paycheck. And from my first day I can’t help but notice that there is a lot of security. More than any other law firm I’ve ever seen. And there’s quite a few doors my keycard won’t open. But I can hear what they’re saying on the floors above me.” 

“God,” Jessica interjected, impressed despite herself. “You’re _so_ weird.” 

Matt’s nostrils flared in amusement, but he didn’t acknowledge what she said, just continued, “The business they mention in the meetings -- I recognize some of them as being shell companies for the Hand. I’ve checked out all the names I’ve heard at the company so far. They’re all tied to the Hand. This company -- it’s going after the scraps the Hand left behind.” 

“You’re telling me that an evil ninja crime syndicate goes under -- in a very literal way -- and now there are, what, hanger-ons?” 

“Stick would have probably said it was a war, and that the war is still not truly done.” 

“Fuck Stick,” Jessica muttered under her breath. Matt nodded. He didn’t say anything else, though, and Jessica could admit her curiosity was piqued. “Is that what you think? That we’re stuck in some kind of eternal war?” 

“I think --” Matt paused, looking suddenly uncertain. “I don’t know about a war or anything. I don’t care about some ancient dispute among monks about immortality or whatever it is. But I do care about my city. And it’s going to take more than destroying one building to set things right in Hell’s Kitchen.” 

“It’s not that big a city, Matt,” Jessica could hear the frustration seep into her voice. “It shouldn’t take that many buildings knocked over to set things right.” 

“Well,” Matt smiled, “I guess I’ll just have to keep blowing up buildings. But before I start doing that, there is an auction that I’ve been hearing about non-stop for a week by the people on the upper floors who don’t spend enough money soundproofing their floors. 

“An auction?” Jessica frowned. 

Matt nodded. “A liquidation auction, where all the merchandise is from the companies that the Hand was involved in. Not advertised anywhere online or in print, but somehow there are a lot of buyers. And my employer just happens to be there. Imagine who else we might see there.” 

Jessica was intrigued, but she wasn’t going to let him get away with what he had said that easily. She crossed her arms. “Seems a little early to be talking about a ‘we’, Matt.” 

“Whatever you say, Jessica.” There was a knowing look in his smile that Jessica wished she could unsee. “The auction is this Saturday, 1 PM.” 

 

******

 

Danny and Luke spent the remainder of the night pouring over the contents of the USB stick. There were repeated references to an auction that was going to take place Saturday in the financial district. A password had been mentioned in a few places, but there was nothing that looked like it was a password on the drive. Luke and Danny spent another hour talking about who might have this password and how they could get it. It was the latest Luke had stayed up since Claire had left, and he found himself strangely talkative. But by the time Danny was blinking as he talked, Luke suggested they should get some sleep. 

It turned out Danny didn’t have a bed, only a small cot that Luke thought must be half his size. “It was how we did things at Kunlun,” he said with a sheepish smile. 

“At least you have a couch,” Luke muttered. Danny looked like he was about to protest, but then he sized up the cot and then sized up Luke and just nodded.

Luke laid out on the couch and was asleep almost as soon as he closed his eyes. He woke up with the sun burning in his eyes. It took a moment for him to remember where he was. As he sat up, he noticed a thin blanket slid off him. Luke frowned at it. He didn’t remember grabbing this -- Danny must have put it on him while he slept. He looked up and saw Danny sitting on the floor with his legs crossed and his eyes closed. 

“Did you actually sleep?” he asked. 

“Meditation is an important tool to rest the mind,” Danny responded without opening his eyes. “Also, it’s 1 PM.” 

Luke grumbled as he got up and stretched. “So, did you get any ideas while meditating about how to get that password?” 

That finally got Danny’s attention, and he opened his eyes and stood up. “Actually, yeah. There is someone I know who might know.” He laid out the idea while Luke listened and gave some advice. It would definitely be a two-person job. 

“Sounds good,” Luke finally said. 

Danny only worried his lower lip in response. Luke watched it too attentively. “It’s been awhile since I’ve worked with someone else,” Danny finally said. 

“After breaking out of prison, I thought I would stay on my own. So believe me when I say I know the feeling.” Luke smiled slowly. “But backup from the Iron Fist? Can’t say I want to go back to my old ways now.” 

They made a few arrangements before heading out, and Luke couldn’t help but notice how Danny kept smiling to himself. 

 

*****

 

The problem with getting access to a secret password is that if the bad guys know someone has spilled the beans, they can just change the password. So to get the password, Luke and Danny had discussed, the password would have to be given up freely by someone who wasn’t aware of what exactly they were doing. 

This was not a problem that punching could solve. 

Or at least, that punching alone could solve. 

Danny had set up a quick coffee meeting with a certain Harold Poole, who was a board member of Allan Security and a major investor in a few companies that did business on the docks from last night. The two of them made small talk under an artful canopy in one of the nicest cafes in Manhattan, all while Danny’s skin itched with how much he wished he was with Luke instead. 

Trying not to segue too awkwardly into the conversation while also not really wanting to continue talking more than absolutely necessary, when Harold started talking about some of the opportunities to diversify his investments, Danny cut in, “I’ve heard there’s going to be a good buying opportunity soon. An auction.” 

Harold blinked in confusion, then regarded him with barely disguised hostility. Well, Danny thought, he had tried to be subtle. He had told Luke he wasn’t good at these things. 

“Rand Enterprise would like a seat at this auction,” he continued, trying to salvage the conversation. “All very hush hush, of course. And in exchange, we will be able to provide some, let’s say, discretionary funds to Allan Security.” 

Harold leaned back into his seat. “Danny, you know I’d love to help. But this request comes as something of a surprise. And nothing in business is worse than a surprise. I will have to review this with the other members of the board.” 

“I understand,” Danny said. Luke had expected this response; that’s why he was out a few blocks away, doing things that were actually fun. 

Harold changed the topic. They talked about other business for a few minutes. Then Harold started asking about personnel changes at Rand Enterprises; Danny almost told the truth for a second (there was nothing particularly noteworthy to say), but at the last second he realized that Harold was probably trying to figure out who might know about the auction at Rand. So instead of answering, he said, “Well, I’d love to share more, but there are big changes coming to Rand and it’s not for me to say.” 

Harold made a noise of agreement. Just as they had started finishing up their coffee and Harold was standing up to go, his phone rang. He looked at the number and frowned. “Excuse me,” he muttered, and walked away in a hurry. 

Danny nodded politely and waited at his seat. He didn’t have superhearing or anything so his imagination was left to fill in the gaps. Harold was being told right now that there had been some serious vandalism at one of the busiest ports. Security had been useless in stopping the culprit. It would take a few weeks and a few millions to repair. What a shame, when the auction required cash to participate. 

A few minutes later Harold reappeared, and if Danny hadn’t known the signs to look for he wouldn’t have even noticed how flustered he was. “That was the COO of Allan Security,” he said. “I mentioned your request. I think if we settle on a price, I can give you a little more information about that auction you were so interested in.” 

A few minutes of haggling later, and Danny walked out of the cafe with the information they needed. He checked his phone to see that Luke had sent him a message. 

“Back at your apartment. I’m going to need some new clothes that aren’t full of bullet holes.” 

“I’ll expense it,” he responded. “Next time I want the job where I fight off security.” 

“Because you say things like ‘expense it’, I think next time you’ll be stuck with the hobnobbing again.” 

Danny snorted. He would work on convincing Luke. But it made him stupidly happy that Luke hadn’t questioned that there would be a next time.


	5. Chapter 5

Matt was wearing what Foggy had once told him was a nice suit. He could hear the rustle of Jessica’s dress: she had worn satin. It probably looked good. Either way, they would probably be fine: Matt pitied any member of the event staff who tried to tell Jessica she didn’t belong at the event. They had avoided the security by going through the roof that was supposed to be inaccessible. It would be awhile before anyone noticed some of the unlocked door (and impromptu doors) they had created for themselves to get to the main floor of the auction. 

Matt took in the chorus of voices coming from the banquet hall. There must be about 50 people total, excluding the security. Mostly men but a fair number of women. International crowd. Some of the companies Matt remembered from their previous dealings with the Hand, but a lot of new names. There was no sign of Elektra and none of the members of the Hand were present. The people here were the scavengers facing a world of possibilities with the apex predators gone. 

He made the mistake of telling Jessica all of this while they were still on the top floor, with the auction about to start three floors below them. 

In response he got a long, “Okay,” and then, “I'm going to be honest, I really didn't miss that about you.”

(But her heart beat a little faster when she said that so he thought she might be lying.)

(He didn't tell her that.)

They managed to sneak their way to the floor with a few minutes before the bidding started. They took two seats near the back and Matt whispered, “We’ll want to put in some bids to avoid suspicion, but unless you have an extra million or two lying around let’s not try too hard to actually win anything.” 

“Really,” Jessica muttered back, “Your gig at a debt collection firm doesn’t pay enough to bankroll a highly suspicious, if not actually criminal, auction? What’s the point then?”

Matt smiled, but his expression froze when he heard Jessica’s breath catch and heard her whisper, “Are you serious?” 

Whatever it was that had drawn Jessica’s attention, most of the crowd appeared not to notice: the rest of the conversation in the banquet hall went on as normal. 

“What is it?” Matt asked hurriedly, his hands already reaching for one of the billy clubs that he kept in a specially-made pocket up his sleeve. 

“We have friends here,” Jessica answered. Matt’s eyebrows furrowed. Karen might have ended up at this auction trying to chase a story, but there was no reason Foggy would attend. 

Wait, did Jessica even really know either of them? 

“We have friends?” Matt mouthed in confusion. 

Jessica let out a quiet snort. “Luke and Danny are here?” she explained. She was quiet for a second and then added, “Honestly, it’s hard to tell which one of them looks more out of place. I wonder how long it is until they see us. I’d wave, but I think that’s a little passe at a place like this.” 

“If they have any sense,” Matt muttered back, “they’ll pretend not to see us.” 

Another second, and then the smell of shock coming from near the entrance was so strong in the room that he was surprised no one actually noticed. 

“Let me guess, they saw us,” he said wryly.

“Give them some credit,” Jessica said, “They did just see a dead man walking.” 

 

*****

 

The auction took about two hours. Jessica bid gamely, and Matt whispered into her ear when her would-be competitors would sigh in resignation or their pulse would race. They didn’t win anything. 

Matt listened for the names of companies and committed them to memory. He also tried listening for clues about who the other participants were. Whispered names, throwaway details of their work. He could hear Jessica scribbling notes to herself next to him. 

It felt like he was standing on top of a spiderweb and could only see the faintest outlines of the web. This was the network that had built up around the Hand: he needed to keep pulling at the web until it was all unraveled. 

Matt could feel his hands itching with a desire to go out and start working again. Really working. He had been laying low for so long, maybe now it was time -- 

“Mr. Rand,” he heard a voice whisper from the other side of the room, “I’d like to discuss the question of payment. It seems like there was a delay on your side.” 

“After the next lot,” Danny whispered back. 

Matt heard a hiss of metal, like a knife being drawn. “I think actually now,” the voice continued. And this was punctuated with a pointed, “Alone.” 

The sound of footsteps heading towards the side exit. 

“Is Danny leaving?” Jessica asked. “The next lot looked promising. Computers, might still have some old files on them.” 

“Danny’s in trouble,” Matt stood up and started walking. After a second he could hear Jessica following a few steps behind. 

As they walked, a third pair of footsteps caught up to them. “See you two managed to get in,” a familiar voice whispered. “Thought it took Rand-level influence to get that password.” 

“What password?” answered Jessica. “We came in through the roof. Security wasn’t good, they were relying on a few steel doors to keep out stragglers.” Jessica tuttered. “Amateurs.” 

Matt opened the door and walked outside. The doors had led to some kind of patio. Matt could smell candles burning. No doubt based on where this building was located, the view of the city must be heartstopping. 

Someone was lying unconscious on the ground. Someone else was standing above them, breathing heavily. 

“What are you guys doing here?” Danny asked. “I got this, it was just one guy with a knife.” 

Matt had already reached into his pocket and thrown his bully stick at the target just behind Danny by the time he finished talking. The figure who had been crouching on the gazebo roof hit the ground with a thud. It looked like he was prepared to stay down.

“Oh,” Danny commented. 

“There’s more backup coming,” Matt said. “They’re climbing the stairs now.” 

“We should get out of here fast,” Luke said. 

Jessica sighed. “What does a girl gotta do to have a quiet night at a criminal auction? Fine, Matt, can we get out the roof again?” 

Matt shook his head. “That’s the stairway they’re coming from.” 

“Are there any other stairways?” Danny asked. 

Matt cocked his head to listen for the patter of feet against stairs that could mean another exit, but it was hard to isolate the sound without knowing exactly where he was trying to listen. 

“I saw some wait staff come through the back a few minutes ago,” Luke supplied. “There’s probably a second flight of stairs for servers.” 

They walked slowly back through the doors and headed towards the side as inconspicuously as possible. Jessica and Luke were leading the way, keeping their pace quick but not obviously in a hurry. The best way to draw attention to yourself was looking like you were in a rush. 

Luke found the door after a minute and they started walking down. Matt’s attention was focused on the other staircase. The guards were still a few flights away, but if they hurried -- 

They made it to the bottom floor and had started walking before a man walked up to them and started, “Leaving so soon?” And then, “Hey, is that Danny Ran --” 

Jessica hit him hard enough that he was going to stay down for a bit. They kept walking and then there was a gust of air as Jessica opened one of the doors. The place smelled of trash and urine. They must be in an alley outside. 

“I’m thinking we should head to that Chinese restaurant to lay low. You know, for old time’s sake,” Jessica started, her wry tone not quite enough to hide the strain in her voice. 

“Before we go anywhere, I’d like to know when someone suddenly came back from the dead,” Danny said. 

“And how long someone else has known,” Luke added. Jessica scoffed but did not say anything to defend herself. 

“I’m happy to explain,” Matt said. “But this is not the right place to have that conversation.” He paused and then said, “You know, I have been craving Chinese.” 

 

*****

 

They ended up back in the same restaurant as before. Matt listened to the back and forth of a confused security detail as they left: by the time they were out of hearing range, the guards had just secured the perimeter of the hotel. They didn’t have to run into the restaurant, didn’t have to board up the windows. Danny ordered food again. Overall, it was a big improvement from the last time Matt had been here. 

Except for the little matter of all the pointed questions he got about coming back from the dead. His own memory of what had happened to him was spotty. And there were of course details he preferred to keep to himself. But he told all of them the rest, which wasn’t much, but eventually Danny and Luke convinced themselves it was enough. Jessica stayed quiet for most of the questioning, but Matt didn’t need to read her heartbeat to know that she was listening very attentively and making her own judgments. 

In the lull following the questioning, Matt cleared his throat and took the opportunity to turn the conversation on someone else. 

“Luke and Danny, you two haven’t explained how you knew about the auction,” he started. “I didn’t even know you two were together.” 

He didn’t quite understand why both their hearts skipped a beat at his last statement. Matt frowned. Did they have something to hide? 

“Whoever that one guy was on that patio,” Jessica started slowly. “He seemed willing to risk an awful lot to get a private word with you, Danny.” 

“I may have promised him an emergency loan in exchange for getting admittance to the auction,” Danny said, fiddling with his tie. “A loan that somehow got delayed getting out of the finance department at Rand Enterprise, despite my assurances to the contrary.” 

“A loan I necessitated,” Luke added, with more than a touch of pride. 

Matt laughed. “Good teamwork. I think the roof was the easier route, though. But you still didn’t answer my original question. How did you find out about the auction?” 

“Well, I was following up on a tip about someone trying to steal Harlem’s boys again,” Luke explained the story. Danny followed up with a few details of his own. 

“Debt collection. Security.” Jessica started, “What other companies are going after the Hand’s leftovers?” 

“The Hand was everywhere,” Danny replied darkly. 

Matt sighed. “When we got rid of the Hand, we created a power vacuum. What we’re seeing now is just -- that vacuum being filled.” 

“So where does that leave us?” Luke leaned back, his arm crossed. 

“Simple,” Matt replied. “We have to take them down. All of them.” 

The answer had been obvious to Matt but a long silence greeted his words. 

“Oh god, you’re actually serious,” Jessica said. She gave a short, cruel laugh. “Matt, do you actually know how many people we’re dealing with? How many people out there that could be involved in this? And there’s always going to be more. No.” She shook her head. “This isn’t a fight we can win.” Another short pause. “What am I saying? There’s no ‘we’ here.” She made to stand up. “Dinner was great,” she continued, the praise hollow in her voice. “But I’m not getting involved in this again. I’ll see you three around. Don't die trying to find a nameless, shapeless evil. Again, in your case, Matt.”

Matt started to call out her name, but she had already made for the exit and he wasn’t sure he could have said anything that could’ve gotten her to stay anyway. 

Matt started to call out “Jessica,” but she had already walked out and he wasn't sure he could have said anything that could've gotten her to stay anyway.

He turned back to Luke and Danny. “Either of you want to leave?”

Luke sighed deeply. “You’re asking a lot of us, you know that? The same day we know you’ve somehow miraculously come back to life you’re saying you’re going to try to burn the vestiges of an international criminal conspiracy to the ground. And you have no idea how long it will take or if it’s even possible.” 

Matt gave a small shrug in acknowledgment. 

“I’m going to need some time to think,” Luke continued. He stood up to leave. “Clear my head. But Matt -- if you need some help punching your way through this thing, I’m not counting myself out quite yet.” 

“Same here,” Danny added quickly, also getting to his feet. 

Matt stayed at the restaurant for a while after they left and the bill was paid. He should get some sleep; he had work early tomorrow. Another day, another pulling on a single thread in the spiderweb. 

He could feel how tired he was in his bones.


	6. Chapter 6

Luke was so distracted by his own thoughts that he did not notice at first that Danny had fallen just a few steps behind and was running to catch up. 

“Not quite ready to get the old gang together?” he asked.

Luke shook his head. “Maybe soon. But for now --” he gave a hopeless shrug. “Gotta get back to Harlem. Get my head back on straight.”

“My place is closer,” Danny supplied quickly. 

If Luke was being honest, a cramped Manhattan apartment wouldn’t have been the first place he thought of when it came to a place to crash after a long, strange night. But if it was Danny’s place -- that didn’t seem so bad. He nodded and they started to retrace their steps back to his apartment in the cool night air. 

 

*****

 

“You know,” Luke said, once they were back inside, “the guy you punched out tonight is just going to keep coming after you.” 

Danny looked thoughtful. “Probably,” he conceded. “Guess I can’t keep punching my way out of that one.” 

Luke laughed, but the smile died quickly on his lips. “I’ve been thinking and -- as much as it genuinely pains me to admit it, I think Matt was right. We have to see this one through. All the way through.” 

“Then why did you tell him no?” 

It was an obvious question for Danny to ask, but Luke still struggled. “I mean, it wasn’t exactly a no,” he said, a tad defensive. “I just -- I’m still getting used to this whole teamwork thing being more of a rule than an exception.” 

Something that wasn't quite disappointment flashed over Danny's face, but he nodded in agreement. 

“So now that the auction is over, are you back to being a lone wolf again?” he asked. 

Luke was almost going to agree, but then he caught himself. It was what he was used to doing, but that didn’t mean it was what he wanted to do right now. “First the docks and then the auction,” he said slowly, “I think the two of us make a good team.” 

Danny replied, “I like working with you too.” But Luke barely heard the words: all he could focus on were the tips of Danny’s cheeks, which had turned an endearing shade of pink. 

“Oh,” Luke said, the realization hitting him suddenly but not unpleasantly, “You want to get coffee.” 

Danny frowned. “I don’t like coffee --” he started, but Luke interrupted.

“Not like that.” 

He leaned forward to close the distance between them and kissed Danny. A soft, surprised sigh escaped Danny’s lips at first, but then he was kissing Luke back with such reckless enthusiasm that he almost managed to knock Luke backwards, which was no easy task. But Luke refocused and soon he had Danny pinned back against the couch with his back arched up against the sofa arm. 

Luke had had several lovers, and there were things he was used to having to worry about. With Jessica, it was being so rough they broke the bed; with Claire, he’d had to hold himself back from being so rough he’d break her spine. 

This was the first time he’d wondered if there was even space for them in the apartment to get it on. 

Danny didn’t seem to have those worries in mind; he let out a soft moan as his fingers clawed at Luke’s back in a way that was definitely getting his dick’s attention. “This would be easier,” Luke said, even as he buried his face kissing up and down Danny’s neck, “if you had a real bed.” 

Danny bucked his hips against Luke’s in obvious impatience. 

“This is what they did in Kunlun,” he panted back. 

“Did they do this in Kunlun?” Luke asked, as his hand traced up the inseams of Danny’s suit leg to palm at his erection. 

The noise that Danny made in response was halfway between a whine and a laugh. “I wish,” he muttered back. He gave another insistent thrust of his hips. “And I wish you would hurry up.” 

Luke raised an eyebrow. “All things in good time,” he commented, but his hands had already moved to tug at Danny’s (expensive) leather belt. Danny tugged at it with his hands and then threw what was probably worth a month’s worth of rent across the room. Luke thought about saying something, but Danny was grasping at his shirt to try to get it off and Luke knew he had better, more important things to think about.

There was a confusion of hands and clothing as they freed themselves from their clothes. When it was over and Danny was naked in front of him, Luke took a moment to soak in the sight of Danny with his curls amess and chest and tattoo falling even as he worried the bottom of his lip. 

Only a moment, though. Danny was waiting and patience was not his strong suit. 

“Do you have a condom?” Luke asked. 

Danny was so busy staring up and down Luke that it took him a second to answer. “Bathroom,” he finally muttered, still sounding somewhat dazed. “Let me get them.” 

A minute passed in which Danny stood up and fetched the lube and condoms from his bathroom. He tossed the items to Luke and then resumed his position on the couch. 

“These aren’t open,” Luke commented, as his fingers proved no match for the sealed package and he resorted to almost tearing the box in half to get a single condom out. 

“I, uh, haven’t got much use from them,” Danny said, and his cheeks turned that very cute shade of pink again even as Luke wondered how a man could have enough blood to look so self-conscious without losing his erection. Probably it was his qi, or something like that. 

“Well, it’s time to fix that,” Luke muttered. Having finally torn open the box to get out the condom, he ripped the wrapper in half. 

In an uncertain voice, Danny asked, “Should I turn around?” It occurred to Luke that Danny hadn’t been exaggerating when he said that he didn’t get a lot of use out of these condoms. 

“Whatever you’re most comfortable with,” Luke said. Danny nodded and then turned around. Luke couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment -- he had wanted to look at Danny’s face. But with the couch it was probably more comfortable that way for him. 

_Next time,_ he found himself thinking. 

_Make sure there is a next time_ , he mentally reproached himself. 

He got the condom around his dick and poured lube over a few of his fingers. Placing one finger experimentally near Danny’s entrance, he asked, “Are you ready?” When Danny nodded, he nudged the finger inside, working slowly. He was rewarded with a gasp and a shiver that made his already-hard cock jump. He moved a second and then a third finger inside, until Danny had started to moan his name, and that was when Luke entered him. 

Danny was tight, very tight, and Luke whispered that fact against the back of Danny’s neck and relished how the words made a shiver go up the other man’s back. Luke forced himself to move slowly, trying to feel how much force would be too much for Danny. He was certainly stronger than a normal person, but he wasn’t unbreakable. What he was, however, was very insistent, and against a backdrop of small whines and an unbroken stream of “oh fuck”s, Luke found a consistent rhythm. 

Danny came easily, particularly after Luke started to stroke his dick in time with his thrusts. The sight of Danny’s shoulder slumping and the small moan that escaped his lips got Luke so close and it only took a few more thrusts until he was coming inside Danny. 

When it was all over, Luke pulled out slowly and the two of them collapsed in a tangle of limbs into the couch. 

Luke had only a moment to wonder at what pillow talk with Danny would be like before Danny muttered a single “fuck” and then fell asleep in a doze.


	7. Chapter 7

The night of the auction, Jessica went home, finished off her last bottle of whisky, started on her emergency bottle of whisky, realized that had been her emergency bottle and finally fell into a dissatisfied sleep. She woke up the next day to an inquiring text from Malcolm, a concerned text from Trish, and a creeping sense of guilt. She successfully ignored all three for at least a few hours, when a quick walk just to get out of her apartment turned into her feet betraying her by leading her to the block where the Raymonds lived. 

“Shit,” she muttered to herself. There was a long moment where she stood on the sidewalk debating whether or not to turn around and return to her apartment, but in the end she just couldn’t do it. She walked up to the front door and knocked. 

Michelle opened the door with a tired expression, but she smiled at the sight of Jessica. “Oh, it’s you!” 

Jessica, not quite comfortable with the idea of someone smiling to see her, replied with a hesitant, “Yeah, it’s me.” And then she added, “Uh, I wanted to ask about that debt collection agency --” 

The smile turned into a polite frown. “But you’ve already taken care of that.” Now it was Jessica who was frowning, but Michelle continued, “Someone called. An account manager? He said that there had been a terrible mistake and they’d had the wrong information on the account. He promised that they wouldn’t be back.” 

The story had clearly lifted Michelle’s spirits, but Jessica had seen too much of the world to believe in happy coincidences; the knot of anxiety that had been building in her stomach tightened. 

“Did this guy leave a name or anything?” she pressed. 

Michelle looked contemplative. “He introduced himself as Frederickson, I think. Something like that.” 

“And when did he call?” 

“This morning, just a few hours ago.” She frowned, “Do you think -- something has happened?” 

“I don’t know what to think,” Jessica muttered under her breath. Louder, she added, “I wouldn’t worry about it. I just...want to be thorough. If anything suspicious happens, let me know.” 

 

She turned away from the house to look over the block again. Only when she heard the door close behind her did she give a long sigh. One day she might save a person, a family, a city, someone and they would just -- stay saved.

But until that day happened, she had an account manager to hunt down. 

 

*****

 

A few calls with different pseudonyms and some quick searches online revealed the probable identity of the man who had called Melissa: one Chris Fenderson, who was listed as having worked for DPMR Legal Group for the past three years. Further snooping revealed an address uptown that she decided to check out that afternoon. 

A parade of movers greeted her there. For a moment, she just stared at the men hauling a couch and a few chairs out of a nondescript brownstone. Eventually she went up to one of the movers and asked, in her best fake concerned voice, “Is this Chris’s stuff?” The mover just frowned back. “Chris Fenderson,” she continued, wobbling her voice for extra effect. “He told me I could drop by,” she let her voice rise and then quickly bit down on her lip. 

The man’s expression took on an edge of panic. No one wanted to deal with an emotional confrontation when they were on the clock. 

“This is his stuff,” he answered, “but I haven’t seen this guy since we got the call. Lady, you better try calling him or something, because he doesn't seem to be coming back here.”

Jessica nodded, trying to will her eyes to fill with tears. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you.” She turned back around and let her expression return to normal. Walking away from the movers and towards the back of the building, she found the fire escape and -- after making sure no one was close enough to see -- leapt up to it easily. As she looked up the building, trying to figure out if she could tell which floor her guy had lived on until yesterday, she happened to spy a glimpse of something familiar. 

“Oh, you son of a bitch,” she muttered to herself, and took the stairs three at a time before jumping her way up to the roof. 

Matt was sitting in full costume on the roof with a nonchalant expression, as if Jessica hadn’t just caught a flash of his horns peeking over the edge of the roof.

“That thing looks even more ridiculous in the daylight,” she scoffed. “You know, I think people usually wait until it’s dark outside to go trick-or-treating. They also wait until it’s actually Halloween too. Although you’ve never let that last part stop you.” 

Matt just shrugged. “It’d be a little hard to explain what a blind, mild-mannered lawyer is doing on the roof of a townhouse.” 

“We all know how much you love explaining things, Matt,” Jessica replied. Behind the mask, Jessica thought he might be arching an eyebrow at that. A silent challenge to her. Glass houses, throwing stones. Whatever. She continued, “So in that spirit -- care to explain to me what you’re doing here?” 

“The same thing you are, at least I assume. Checking to make sure a certain Chris Fenderson is actually gone.” 

Jessica frowned. “He called my client a few hours ago and told her not to worry. And now he’s, what, skipping town?” 

Her frown deepened when she saw that Matt had started to smile. 

“Oh, you bastard,” she said. “It was you, wasn’t it?” 

“Let’s just say a certain account manager got a surprise visit from the Devil before work today. It seemed to do him well. Resigned very suddenly, though. Heard he has plans to move to LA.” 

Jessica gave a snort. “Hear the weather’s better there.” 

Matt’s expression turned suddenly serious. “Jessica, you talked yesterday about how this isn’t a fight we can win and how you don’t want any part of it, but you still checked up on the Raymonds this morning.” 

Jessica’s tongue felt suddenly heavy in her mouth. “Yeah, well,” she muttered. The old impulse was there: to lie, to say she didn’t really give a damn. But she couldn’t make her mouth say the words. It was probably for the best. Matt was probably listening to her heart or reading her mind or some bullshit anyway and would know that she was lying. Jessica didn’t like how a blind man could see right through her. 

All that left was the truth. “I want to help,” she said, and it sounded more like a confession than she would have liked. “I can help the Raymonds. But you’re talking about taking on -- what? Everyone who still has ties to the hands? Everyone? That’s not helping. That’s suicide.” His expression did not change as she spoke. “I’m not even sure you know that there’s a difference.” 

“You may be right,” Matt conceded, and just when she was about to ask exactly which statement he was agreeing to, he added, “But I have an idea on how to take them down. At least most of them. Maybe even all of them. But I’m going to need some help to do it. Yours first.” 

Jessica crossed her arms. She’d believe it when she heard it. “What’s the big plan then?” 

“I did a little digging last night. These groups -- they were cautious when dealing with the Hand. They kept a lot of records. In case deals went south. Just so that everyone would be on the same page. After all, why not? The Hand was so big, so powerful that no one thought they would be brought down. And they owned the cops and the courts.” 

Jessica stood for a moment in stunned silence. Then a thought occurred to her, “You found out all this last night. Matt, Jesus, do you even sleep?” 

The only acknowledgment she got of that question was a half smile, and then Matt continued, “And the best part is, I think it’s all in one place. As part of that auction, companies had to submit paperwork. Proof that they were who they said they were. And in those cases when someone might have decided not to pay, blackmail. I think it’s going to be moved soon and maybe even destroyed, but for now that Manhattan building has a treasure trove of incriminating documents in its basement.” 

It took a moment for Jessica to fully process everything that Matt was saying. Then it took her another moment to fill in all the details of what he _wasn’t_ saying. “That nice building that we already had to flee from once,” Jessica said with a raised eyebrow. 

The mask hid Matt’s eyes but she didn’t need to see them to know that his expression had gone shifty. “Yes,” he admitted, “but that’s why I wanted help.” 

“This call to our good friend, Mr. Fenderson. Was that to help out the Raymond family or just to get my attention?” 

Matt’s face was impassive. “Will you help me or not?” 

That was answer enough. Jessica felt her eyes roll deep into their sockets. “One condition,” she said. “If you can get Luke or Danny to agree, then yes. I’ll help. If it’s just the two of us fighting our way in, the pressure to land a punch or two on you instead of the bad guys might be too much to resist.” 

 

******* 

 

Danny woke up early with his arms wrapped around Luke’s torso. The sun was streaming through the blinds. The monks of Kunlun had always chastised him for his habit of sleeping in, but it had been hard to sleep through the night after he had discovered the bodies of his fellow monks. But today was different. He wanted to sleep in now, resting so close to Luke. He gave Luke an experimental prod. The other man didn’t stir and didn’t budget. Danny might as well have pushed against a mountain. 

It felt very safe and secure, sharing a bed -- or, in this case, a couch -- with Luke. Danny gave a contented sigh and nestled back to sleep against the other man. 

He must have fallen asleep again, because a loud knock woke him up. 

He frowned at the door and waited for another knock before climbing off the couch. He slowly started to pick up his clothes from last night and put them on again. A third knock. Who would come to this apartment? He had trusted very few people with this address. Remembering the ambush, he focused his qi, and prepared for the worst -- 

“Are you _sure_ he lives here?” he heard a familiar and annoyed woman’s voice coming from the other side of the door. “Maybe you found the address for some different business heir turned mystical martial artist?”

“I’m sure,” an equally familiar man’s voice answered. 

“Really, you know, because it’s an understandable mistake. The way things have been going for New York lately, there’s probably a lot of them --” 

Danny opened the door. “Jessica, Matt. What are you two doing here?” 

In the instant it took for Jessica to give him a very frank looking-over, Danny realized he was not wearing pants. He had never been so glad that the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen was blind. 

“Looks like Colleen stayed the night,” Jessica said as she entered the apartment. Before Danny could answer her, she took a few steps forward and corrected herself. “Oh, never mind. It was Luke.” 

She walked over to the couch and gave him a push. When that failed to wake him, she gave him a significantly harder push. The springs in Danny’s couch complained loudly. Luke woke up with a confused noise. 

“Jessica?” He asked. “What are you doing here?”

“We were looking for Danny. Can't say I expected you here. You dog. First me, now Danny. Is Matt next? He's a good Catholic boy, might be a little harder to convince.” She clasped a hand on his shoulder. “But it's ok. I believe in you.”

“We were looking for Luke too,” Matt added, his tone professional. “This makes things easier for us. We were prepared to go all the way up to Harlem.” 

Luke frowned. “We told you no last night. Thought you would probably wait a while before asking again.” 

“I found out something new last night, and thought it might help change your mind. It changed Jessica’s.” Matt explained about the auction and the paper trail that it had left behind. Danny listened, tempted despite himself. At the end, he turned to ask Luke what he thought, but he was saved the trouble because Luke had let out a short bitter laugh.

“So,” Luke said, sitting up in the couch. “You have paperwork on them. Incriminating paperwork. What are you going to do, sue them?” 

Matt’s eyebrows knit together. “I take it you don’t believe in the ability of the criminal justice system to see these companies actually brought to justice.” 

“Given that I went to jail while Shades and Mariah walked free, can’t say I’m terribly optimistic about our chances, no.” 

“We’re not going to sue them. We're going to go after them in print. I have a friend -- well, I know a reporter. She's taken down groups like this before. I plan to hand the records to her and then she can print anything else on them she can dig up. All the names of the companies and the executives who profited from a criminal enterprise.” 

“And in order to get those names to her, what exactly do we need to do?” Jessica asked. 

“We need to punch our way through security.” 

Luke gave Matt a long look before he said anything. Danny was waiting to hear what he would say; he had the sense that Jessica was too. 

After a long minute, he let out a laugh. It sounded a little rueful. “You know what, I think you’re crazy, but I think you’re onto something here. I’m in.” 

Danny nodded as well. 

“So now the gang’s all back together,” Jessica asked, her arms crossed but a smile on her face. “When do we start?”


	8. Chapter 8

They gathered outside the reception hall as it was getting dark. Matt was back in his costume. He was the only one. Jessica gave it a sideways glance; Matt had managed to convince her to do a lot of things she hadn’t initially seen herself doing, but wearing something like that was where she was going to draw the line. 

“They don’t know we’re coming, so most of the security is on the roof,” Matt said. “But what we’re interested in is in the basement. They’ve still got a number of guards stationed there too.” 

Jessica paused and then added, half to herself, “Nope, that’s never not going to be weird.” 

Matt cocked his head. “I think most of them are congregated in the far west wing of the basement. Seems like there’s something being guarded. Also the ones with the most ammunition. That’s where I’d bet we’ll find what we’re looking for. Everyone ready?”

Jessica turned to see Luke and Danny both nod. She let out a huff and hit her fist against her palm. 

Saving the world was a sham. They could win today and it would just need to be saved again. But if she got those records out of that building and into a reporter’s hands, then the Raymonds and all the other families just like them might be able to breathe a little easier. And then Jessica could go back to her favorite bar and feel a little more at peace during the next happy hour. 

It wasn’t really saving the world. Not completely. But it was a start. 

 

******* 

 

The four of them fought their way to the main staircase. Reinforcements tried to come from the higher floors, but Jessica had crushed the lock on the steel door of the stairway and Luke had used the steel from the railing to reinforce it. The security that had remained on the first floor and the basement were easily overwhelmed by the four of them, and the last of the guards got taken out by a blast from Danny’s qi. 

When it was all over, they downloaded what was on computers to a flash drive that Matt had brought along, and they took what was in paper form in a new exit to the building provided by Luke and made for a location that Matt had set up a few blocks away.

People often said that you can’t punch your way out of all fights, but it was kind of the only thing the four of them knew how to do. 

 

****** 

 

Karen got a text from an unknown number mentioning that there was something of interest to her in a storage box just a few blocks from town. It sounded suspicious and she was reluctant to go in case it was some kind of setup -- until she got to the last part of the message. There would be a lock on the door, the message said. The combo to open it was the old address of Foggy & Nelson. 

She went during her lunch break and she took a gun with her. What she found was just a few stacks of folders and a couple of flash drives. She took a piece of paper at random, swore to herself, and read for long enough that she was late getting back to work. When the day was over, she came back and took everything back to her apartment. 

Karen had exes who had given her chocolate or roses or stuffed animals. Matt was the first who ever gave her documents incriminating some of the city’s most powerful business executives in an international criminal conspiracy. 

As a way of apologizing, it felt very much like him. 

 

**** 

 

It took just three nights for the first expose to hit the press after they had bulldozed through that reception hall. When Luke texted Jessica about it, all she said was, “Matt’s friend worked fast.” 

He hadn't seen much of Jessica or Matt, although he didn't doubt that if the shit hit the fan they would be in touch. Things were settled. Not calm. Luke hated calm. But he had found a groove. There was crime to fight, and he liked spending his nights with Danny, either fighting crime or between the sheets. Sometimes both.


End file.
